Tonight's Special
by Abel Quartz
Summary: There's nothing more nerve-wracking than a first dinner date. At sixteen, Steven Quartz Universe is nothing if not prepared to make tonight the best it can be for his Connie. The only thing standing in the way of the best night ever is his own anxiety. And there's no way that's going to make things difficult! Right?


Maybe if he passed out, they'd get a free meal.

Steven tried to lean a little in his chair, swaying his feet as he surveyed the restaurant. He wasn't the only one in a suit, thank goodness, and forgoing the tie seemed like a stylish option. Amethyst had broken the tie for midnight blue over black, but all the Gems had agreed on the pink dress shirt. The shoes hurt, and each time they touched the carpet, his feet protested his decision to exist.

"I can't believe your dad's paying for this."

Steven watched Connie's eyes widen as she scrolled down the menu. She flipped a page to the fold-out wine menu and wrinkled her nose.

"I mean, I can, because he's still got a boatload, but still," she said. "Who's going to pay two hundred dollars for one bottle of wine? What even makes wine good? I'm kinda glad we don't have to pretend to like that, right?"

The two teenagers chuckled. Steven raised a hand to the back of his head, hoping he wasn't turning as red as he thought he was. Connie's hair was still perfect, despite their ride from Lion to come here. He noticed the red dress was new, it had to be; she had outgrown that summer dress over a year ago. Both of them had had their growth spurts, and it was strange now to be looking down a couple inches on his best friend.

"...Steven?"

The teenager sprang to attention instantly, sitting upright with his back ramrod stiff. He stared straight into Connie's face, hoping he hadn't been looking where he shouldn't have been. She paused, then folded the menu back with a soft smile.

"You seem nervous," she teased.

"I-I'm not!"

"You just happen to be squeezing the table into a pulp? For no reason?"

Steven released his grip where his hands has found themselves. Thankfully, the tablecloth covered where the fingertips had cracked the wood. He curled his hands back, looking around to make sure that nobody was looking at his indiscretion. Connie's laugh brought his eyes back around.

"I'm sorry, it's just, uh…"

"Steven, it's okay. We're just here to have a fun night, right?"

"Of course! Yeah, no, fun. Tonight's gonna be...fun."

Was it really? The preparation had taken its toll on Steven's nerves, even with everything falling into place perfectly. He hadn't got his license yet, but that was okay because Lion had been cooperative tonight. Reservations were a breeze, even on the busiest night of the month. Suit shopping was no hassle, Connie had been free, and Greg was paying for everything. It was all a perfect night in the finest bay restaurant in Delmarva.

And Connie looked amazing. When she had said yes, Steven had jokingly added that yup, it was a date. Her agreement left him speechless until Garnet's squealing brought him back down to earth. It was too surreal to have that moment so long ago turn into the now. Nobody seemed to care that a fifteen- and sixteen-year-old were out for a romantic evening together. The conversation flowed around them, the piano music played through the hall, and the warmth of the restaurant in the cold of the winter evening was perfect.

Steven already knew what he was ordering from looking at the menu online, but he pretended to open it anyway to pass the time.

He cleared his throat. "So, um, how's that college prep stuff going with your mom?"

"You know, she's actually started to come around to letting me space out my AP classes next year."

"Wait, really?" Steven said. "I thought she was trying to get you to get all your credits or whatever."

"Well, that's what she thought looking at the schedule, right? But I showed her some of the kinesthesiology programs up in New Plymouth and made an argument for a senior year AP bio class instead of doing that next year."

"What's...what's that kin-stuff again."

Connie curled her arm, half-pretending and half-flexing. The muscle definition from years of sparring practice was starting to show. She grinned.

"Exercise science, basically. I don't want to go into med school, but I want to help, you know?" she said. "If I was a doctor, I'd just have you spit in jars and sell it as a miracle cure."

"_Ewwwww._"

"What? You know it'd work!"

"That's the worst part! 'One dose of backwash, extra chunky!'"

Both of them stifled laughter for a moment. Steven brought his water glass up and pretended to snort and get ready to hock mucus into it. Connie covered her face with her hands, shaking with hidden laughter and snorting softly into them. The two teenagers took a second to drink for real, cleansing their immaturity.

Connie shook her head, flipping the menu back open. Steven watched her read, giving her the space of silence. Was everything going to be okay for her? What if it was too much? Steven's grin started to fade as he watched Connie's expression turn pensive. He should have checked portion sizes beforehand. He should have made sure that the restaurant had everything in stock. He had picked a second option for himself, and a third, and something to suggest for Connie if she was undecided, but what if she didn't like his suggestions? What if she hated the smell of the food that he picked? What about the weird garnishes? What -

"Good evening!"

Steven's shield burst out of his arm in a blaze of heat and energy. The waiter froze in his tracks, as did the surrounding tables and the conversation. The piano music and the hum of Steven's magic drifted through the dining area. Around the shield, a series of spikes jutted out - a new combat addition - and nearly jutted into the neck of the young man. Connie put one hand on her chest, startled from the sudden motion, before she stared at Steven and cleared her throat. Steven, bug-eyed in silent panic, looked their waiter in the face and retracted his weapon in a poof of pink sparkles.

The man adjusted his glasses with one shaky hand, crescent moon earrings swaying softly. He couldn't have been much older than the Cool Kids. The silver undercut stood out starkly against the darkness of his skin. He offered Steven a thin smile ridden with anxiety as conversation

"I'm - My name is Zach, and I'll be your waiter this evening," he said, glancing between the kids. "Can I get you started with any drinks, appetizers?"

Steven folded his hands in his lap. Before he could order something and give the spiel for drinks he had drilled, Connie closed her menu with a just-loud-enough clap.

"You know what, I think water is good for now," she said. "Can you give us a couple minutes."

Zach muttered something about how yes, of course, that was fine, before he gingerly stepped away and hightailed away from Steven's side of the table. Connie watched him go before she turned her head back to her date. Surprisingly, the rage or irritation Steven fully expected was instead replaced by odd concern.

"You're being weird."

Steven knew that he was far from genuinely panicking, that thought in itself brought that much closer to the anxious edge. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he just knew it was showing through his shirt, ruining the new suit, turning him as gross and boggy on the outside as he was starting to feel on the inside.

"Steven."

"I just wanted this to be _nice!_" he blurted out.

Connie leaned forwards with her arms crossed on the table. The tension holding the teenage boy together crumpled, and Steven felt his arms and legs turn to spaghetti. He slouched and let out a breath fraught with defeat, pushing his hair up from his forehead. From its position on the back of Steven's chair the suit jacket began to slide to the side.

As he looked around at the restaurant, Steven felt unwelcome. He missed the small population of Beach City's coastal cuisine. The cleanliness of the air here was flowing through his lungs and making each breath cut like crystal. Golden chains and cufflinks glared at him from the wrists and necks of the other patrons. Even the silverware was polished too brightly now, reflecting the candlelight and burning his eyes.

"I - I wanted, for all of this to just be so good?" Steven said. "And I got it together, and we're here and it feels so - I feel like garbage and like I'm ruining everything and I AM nervous, because I planned for everything to be good for you and I'm… I'm ruining it. Everything here is perfect except for me. You deserve better than me right now."

Steven leaned onto the table with one hand flat on the menu and the other jammed up into his cheek. He could feel the bumps from his shaving, even though all the little cuts had already healed. The teen's index finger swung out slowly, bumping the salad fork into his glass with a minute clink.

Connie nodded slowly, then slid her hand across the tablecloth towards Steven. The boy glanced at the invitation. When he looked up, he forced himself to straighten back. How could he say no to that face? Connie smiled as Steven extended his own hand, and the two of them held on to each other for a moment. Steven closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath. This was why he was here.

"Steven, I know you want this to be perfect, but I never want you to have to worry about this stuff," Connie said. "Spending time with you is already great. I was so excited to come tonight! This restaurant, your new suit, it's all just so - so fancy, and it's elegant and mature and it's all _fun_. But I can't have fun if you're not having fun."

Steven nodded and curled his fingers around Connie's. She kept up her smile for a moment, but Steven was looking to the side. Her expression faded, and she tapped the table, studying him.

"So why aren't you having fun."

There was the question that instantly shot through to Steven's gut. He swallowed his nerves back down and cleared his throat. A round of laughter drifted from another nearby table as Steven let go to grab his glass and finish his water. The ice clinked as he set it back down, and the teenager puffed out his cheeks as he found his words.

"Because this is a _serious_ thing. It's an important...dinner."

Connie raised an eyebrow. "Dinner."

"Yes, an important dinner. That we're having, together."

"You can say it's a date, Steven. I know it's a date."

Steven reached down and grabbed each side of his seat to stop himself from squirming. It was impossible for anyone not to notice the boiling red blush spreading over his face. But to his surprise, when Connie giggled and tucked her hair behind her ear, he could see that she was reddening too, subtle but warm.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Steven interjected, and he had to laugh despite himself. "You're nervous too! How come you're not a wreck?"

"Well maybe I am, you don't know that!"

"I know you're not the one who tried to kill the waiter."

Connie nodded, and they both let the giggles disperse. Steven let go of the chair and scooted forwards. This was easier, with them laughing, remembering their reflexes and their mistakes, the times where training took hold in improper moments. Anxiety never took time off, it seemed. Steven tilted his head to the side to swing his hair out from his vision.

"But I know it's a date. That's why we got all fancied up and stuff. The Gems, dad, they all knew too, right? That's why they were all excited about this and not when we make lunch plans or whatever. Like those cats that can sense earthquakes," he sighed.

"My parents were the same way. I had to agree not to go anywhere after, that we wouldn't be trying to get any drinks, that I have to be home at a certain time, that I can't, um…"

Steven was nodding along as Connie listed the rules on her fingers. She curled her hands up suddenly and took a drink of her own, letting the last article hang undefined. Silently, Steven wondered what the Maheswarans thought of him going out with Connie like this at all. It had been over four years that they had first met, after all, and they had let them do some amazing things together. Going out to a restaurant was much less likely to kill them than going to the outer reaches of the universe. Maybe it wasn't as much of a stretch to let their daughter go.

"How on earth would we get drinks? I mean, I'm just barely starting to look like a real teenager, and we're both too young even with the fancy clothes."

"You can shapeshift, right? Grow out some more facial hair, turn it gray, lower your voice - you could look like some innocent old man."

Steven cleared his throat before he made his wheezy impersonation. "Oh, yees, hello there young bart-ender, may I have one alcohols?"

Hearing Connie laugh made Steven melt into relaxation. Before, it had been all nerves, and now there was something genuine about the jokes. Maybe it was the fact that they had ignored the romance, that they were forgoing the question.

But it was the question that made this all important. He hadn't told any of his family about it, and he hadn't even thought about how he was going to ask. Watching Connie wipe a tear from her eye made Steven wonder if he needed to worry. No, no why would he? What could there possibly be to worry about? Steven's stomach tried to turn again, but the boy forced himself to unclench and loosen all the bolts that secured anxiety to his person. He needed to ask the question, but he already knew the answer. Four years, so many adventures, and they were both old enough to start this one step at a time.

"So, Connie?"

This time, it was Steven who extended a hand, as soft and relaxed as the fabric upon which it rested. Connie brought her hand down immediately, letting it nest in her best friend's palm as they both squeezed together.

"Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" Steven asked.

He felt the rush vicariously. He swore he could hear Connie's shoes as she brought her feet together. The blood flowed up her body and through her limbs, warming her palms and bursting through to light up her smile. Steven knew he could just stare at that smile forever.

"Yes! Yes, absolutely, Steven!"

"Then… It's official!"

The two of them stared at each other across the table. The music faded into background noise, and the conversations dwindled to nothing around them. Steven let himself get lost in the moment, and for the first time tonight, he felt weightless. He kept himself grounded physically, but his heart swelled in his chest, and the boy let it rise uncontested. Between their hands, he could feel a chain of warmth, connected palm to palm and soul to soul, the conduit for human love.

When reality set in again, Steven looked at their hands, then smirked. The shirt and suit were as tight and moderately uncomfortable as when he had first put them on, and the dress shoes felt just as weird before. The restaurant was just as fancy, the ice as cold, the chatter as light. And there was Connie, just as wonderful.

"You know what?" Steven said. "This was a good idea. I'm still feeling a little sticky and gross, but that's just these dress clothes. I don't feel bad anymore."

"Hey, you wanna know something?"

"What?"

Connie bit her lip. "I was in my room getting dressed, and I was just looking at myself in the mirror, and for two seconds I just wanted to call you and tell you I couldn't do this, and just spend the night under the covers."

Steven started to feel the tug of concern, but Connie just shook her head and laughed.

"And it feels so stupid now!" she said. "Because I knew that this was going to be a date and I didn't know if I was ready. But you know what? I've always been ready. You could have asked me any time and I would have said yes."

"Well I… I know that." Steven shrugged. "But just like you said, it's elegant and mature. I wanted to make you feel…"

"Grown up?"

Well, maybe that wasn't the first word on his mind. Maturity came with growing up, and it was true that this was delving out of childhood territory, but Steven shook his head.

"I wanted to make you feel loved."

It was Connie's turn to look surprised. Steven knew that he couldn't say it any other way, and maybe ten minutes ago he would have melted in shame. It was the truth, and it was truer than ever considering their recent union. Love was the invisible label on everything Steven had done tonight, and as Connie laughed, he knew that his feelings had reached their mark.

"Steven, I always feel loved. I've got you."

There were the other words, the follow-up on the tip of his tongue, but that was for after. Steven kept them behind a smile. Feelings pressed against his teeth, and he kept them tucked away for safe keeping. After dinner, after all of this. Then he could say it. Instead, the boy gave a trademark wink.

"You got me."

A figure approached. The two teenagers looked up to Zach's anxious face, and as the waiter looked back between them, he lowered his notepad and slowly, shared their smile. Everything was going to be alright now. Steven gathered up his menu, and Connie took another look at her own. It was going to be a meal just like any other they had had in the past. It was the same love, the same Earth. There was nothing to worry about for the rest of the night. As Connie asked Zach about the specials, Steven watched her with those three words in mind. And he knew, right after, she would say them too.


End file.
